


Into the Wild

by jenfurlee (orphan_account)



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jenfurlee
Summary: Bridget gets roped into a hiking trip with her girlfriends, lead by none other than gorgeous wilderness woman, Franky Doyle. Will Bridget survive the weekend without making a fool out of herself in front of the beautiful girl? AU FIC.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been officially abandoned. My heart is just not in it anymore. If you would like to continue this series, feel free to contact me. Serious inquiries only.

Bridget Westfall fucking hated camping with every fiber of her being. The blonde would chose the comfort of a chunky pair of heels over hiking boots any given day of the week. The fact that she was at Blue Mountains National Park for the weekend climbing a mountain was not something she was particularly happy with. It was her annual girls trip, and Meg had picked hiking. Last year, Bridget’s turn included warm waters of Tahiti and lots of tropical beverages laced with copious amounts of rum. So now the two of them, and their long time friend Vera were stuck in the wilderness and away from any contact with civilization. Bridget missed her mobile already. The other attendee of the hellacious vacation was a friend of Vera’s with years of hiking experience. Her name was Franky, and she was much younger than her and Meg expected. The brunette was also drop dead gorgeous in her tight climbing gear. She spent the day leading a fast pace up the mountain, wanting to reach the first camp ground before nightfall. The only thing that kept the blonde psychologist from collapsing was watching the swell of Franky’s arse in the tight spandex of her tights.  
  
It was nearing the end of their trek for the day when Bridget was finally wearing thin. Sure, she was in incredible shape for her age, she could stay in Warrior Three pose longer than anyone else at her yoga studio. Both of her water bottles had been drained through the day long affair. Meg and the rest of her friends were pushing forward a little faster, finally hitting the worn path to the campground. Franky fell back to walk with Bridget, handing her a water bottle.  
  
“Thanks,” Bridget panted taking a couple sips from the bottle before handing it back to Franky.  
  
“I take it this isn’t your thing?” Franky asked holding the bottle up and squirting a small amount into her mouth before returning it to her pack.  
  
“What was your first clue?” Bridget fired back, her legs feeling sore and tingly.  
  
“I promise it will be worth it when we get to the summit. The first day is always the worst. Once your body adjusts to the altitude the next two days will fly by, Gidge” Franky winked before patting Bridget’s back.  
  
“It’s Bridget,” she corrected gently. Franky smiled broadly.  
  
“I know,” she responded as she increased the speed of her strides catching up with their group leaving Bridget in the dust.


	2. Chapter 2

Forty-five minutes after the ladies had arrived at their campsite and Franky had already managed to start a fire, set up her tent, and was now standing knee deep in the clear water of the serine lake.  
  
“Where the hell did you find her, Vera, the bush?” Bridget whispered under her breath as the two women struggled to finish setting up the blonde’s ancient tent. She had to blow a thin layer of dust from the pack when she drug it out of the garage. Of course the old tarp wasn’t nearly as easy to set up.  
  
“She’s one of our mentors for the youth program. She takes troubled kids on treks.” As if the wilderness woman couldn’t have been anymore attractive, now she had a moral compass.  
  
“Are you sure she’s human? I don’t think I saw her break a sweat once.” Bridget grumbled as she set the final stek into the ground while Vera held the flimsy material up and in position.  
  
“Don’t act like you weren’t checking her out all day. She’s single by the way,” Vera smirked while nudging Bridget in the side before the two walked towards the lake.  
  
“Nice work Vinegar Tits!” Franky cheered from her spot in the water. She had shucked off her tights on the small beach leaving herself clad in a pair of tight boy-shorts. Vera’s cheeks burned bright at her nickname being spoken out loud. Bridget’s burned red for another reason. Franky’s numerous tattoos were now visible after she shed her layers of clothing. Both of her sculpted arms were painted brightly with ink, but the piece that caused a hitch in Bridget’s breathing was her side. A beautiful cherry blossom tree was etched along the muscular olive skin.  
  
“What kind of a nickname is Vinegar Tits?” Meg asked sitting on the sand with her sore feet soaking in the water. Bridget soon decided that was a genius idea and tugged off her filthy shoes and socks.  
  
“Long story, care to tell it, Ver?” Franky smiled broadly before tugging her tank top off and tossing it to join her leggings on the shore and wading further into the water until she was up to her slender waist.  
  
“Not unless you’ve got a bottle of tequila in that pack of yours, Doyle,” Vera laughed, her embarrassment diminishing slowly. “Anyone gonna join me? Gidget?” Franky nodded her head slyly. “Or is this also not your ‘thing’” she teased before splashing towards the women.  
  
“I was on the swim team in college, thank you very much,” Bridget scoffed.  
  
“You sound like you’re all talk. I prefer action,” Doyle continued to wade out further into the water. Without any further thought, the blonde stripped down to her knickers before tip toeing out into the chilled water. If Bridget wasn’t mistaken, she could see the brunette’s eyes flicker down over her bare skin. When she had made it waist deep, she took the plunge and, in a perfect stroke, passed by Franky's bobbing form. Franky had attempted to speak to her as she passed, probably to make some flirty remark, but Bridget was unable to hear over the kick of the water. When she finally surfaced and her feet grazed the bottom, she was met with a sharp searing pain.


	3. Chapter 3

“Fuck! I think something bit me!” Bridget swore loudly as she instantly grabbed her foot from whatever had just stabbed her big toe. Her arms flailed trying to stay above water and figure out what the hell had just touched the bottom of her foot. This was the stuff her nightmares were made off. Before she could choke on a mouthful of lake water, she was lifted off her feet into a pair of solid and tattooed arms.  
  
“Well Gidge, I gotta hand it to ya, I give your form a 10, but the landing was a bit rough,” the brunette tried to joke as she made her way towards the edge of the lake.  
  
“What the hell was that?” Bridget squeaked as she found herself wrapping her arms around Franky’s neck. If she wasn’t so utterly terrified, she would have been embarrassed.  
  
“Relax, the lake is piranha free. That would be the rocks.” Franky responded. “I was trying to warn you, but you turned into Michael fucking Phelps,” she mocked setting Bridget gently on the sand. When she looked down she noticed the amount of blood covering her poor big toe. She instantly felt queasy.  
  
“There's a first aid kit in my pack.” Franky shouted towards Meg and Vera. Both of them ran back towards camp. The brunette set to work elevating Bridget’s let to get a closer look.  
  
“You should have told me!” she yelled towards the woman. She needed someplace to displace her anger energy. And this clearly was all Franky’s fault. The brunette leaned back on her heels and while shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
“Excuse me, blondie?” She half laughed. Was this woman actually serious? Before she could fire back, Meg had returned with the kit. Franky’s hands quickly found what she was looking for and sprayed the antiseptic over Bridget’s injured toe. She shrieked loudly when the stinging sensation hit her.  
  
“Good news is that you’ll pull through,” she said calmly rubbing the woman’s knee trying to distract her. “It’s not deep enough to need stitches. I’ll get you patched up in no time, Little Mermaid” Franky patted her knee gently with a small smile playing on her lips.  
  
“This is definitely not my day,” Bridget sighed rubbing her face.  
  
“Here. Let me finish getting this dressed, and then we can get you back to camp,” the brunette winked and went back to work wrapping Bridget’s toe with great care.  
  
"Thank you. Really. I'm sorry snapping earlier. "  
  
"It's all good.”  
  
“Your tattoos are really beautiful, by the way,” she added, finally able to see the intricate artwork up close. One bicep sported a sexy pinup and the other a colorful phoenix reaching from her shoulder down to her forearm.  
  
“Ta. I keep trying to talk Vera into getting one, but she keeps saying no,” she feigned confusion. Her laughter burst out of her chest at the joke. Vera was about as straight-laced as anyone Bridget had ever met. Franky’s cheeks dimpled at the corner of her turned out lips.  
  
“How on earth did you two get to be friends anyway?” Bridget demanded.  
  
“Work,” Franky answered.  
  
“Were you an officer?”  
  
“Prisoner,” Franky’s bright green eyes connected with hers.  
  
“Oh,” Bridget held her poker face as best as she could under the current circumstances.  
  
“I’m just fucking with ya,” she teased, biting her tongue between those perfectly straight teeth. She patted Bridget’s knee with a deep laugh.  
  
“That was pure evil.”  
  
“Just trying to keep you on your toes. You’re all set. What’s say we get you back to camp before you get bit by one of those nasty lake piranhas?” Franky stood, her muscles taught in her dark underwear. She reached her hands out, and helped Bridget to a standing position. Franky then wrapped her arm around Bridget’s waist while bringing Bridget’s arm around her shoulders in an effort to support her.  
  
“Well, it can’t get any worse, can it?” the blonde tried to laugh at her misfortune. At least it was bringing her closer to the gorgeous woman.  
  
“Uh, I think you spoke to soon,” Franky cringed as they approached their camp. She nodded her head towards the army green heap of material where Bridget’s tent had been. Upon further investigation, the plastic rods lining the top had all snapped from old age rendering her tent completely ruined.  
  
“You have got to be kidding me,” she groaned.  
  
“Looks like you’re bunking with me tonight, Gidget.”


End file.
